Cupid’s Loss

Cupid wrote a poem Hefty in the shape of hearts The mischievous wind grew jealous Plotting to scatter his heartfelt leaflets Not remembering their order He sorted them best he could The wind laughed at his misfortune Proud of its spiteful deed Cupid’s Divine arrows ached Hanging their head low They no longer shot straight curving around the wind Anxious, time loomed ahead He made haste Flapping his wings shooing the deceitful wind away Deepening the depth of his heart But alas, he could not recapture the feeling No, Not like it was before Not without fear of loss

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